Of Knights and Neckerchiefs
by FlyingMachine1
Summary: "Suddenly, a shadow fell across the servant and he looked up to see the three knights looming over him. Sir Hector knelt down and said in a sickly sweet voice. 'Because you're not a knight, so stop pretending to be one.'" In which Merlin is bullied, a neckerchief is lost, and Arthur is protective of his servant. No slash. Two shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: PLEASE READ! So this here's a quick ad for a Merlin role play we're starting up on Twitter. If anyone is interested in being a character from Merlin or you have any questions, send me a quick PM. Some characters (Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, Kilgharrah, and Morgana at the moment) have already been taken, but be creative! You can be any character that's been mentioned on Merlin! First timers are also welcome! Thanks and let me know!**

**Anyway, onto the story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

Sirs Hector, Gavin, and Darien were gathering their training gear up when loud, joyful laughter suddenly floated its way across the training fields. Looking in the direction of the sound, a scowl etched its way across Sir Hector's pointed face as his cold eyes located the source of the merriment.

"Oh great," Sir Hector drawled sarcastically as he pointed in the direction of the laughter. "look who's back." The other two knights followed Sir Hector's gaze and their faces stretched into similar scowls.

Making their way across the grass were the self proclaimed Knights of the Round Table. There apparently had been a large creature of some sort attacking a small village near the boarder of Camelot, and they were just returning from taking care of it.

'_Rather than sending his more experienced, _real _knights,' _Hector thought angrily. '_the king chooses to send those peasants and that miserable excuse for a servant.'_

While Sir Hector had some tolerance for the knights (there was no denying their skill on the training fields), the one person he couldn't stand was that galling manservant, Merlin. He was constantly there, like an obnoxious gnat continually buzzing around his head no matter how many times he swatted at it.

For a reason that he couldn't fathom, King Arthur, time and time again, felt the need to bring that damn servant on quests, patrols, and missions rather than bringing a seasoned knight like a king usually would.

And that Merlin was so insubordinate, what with his back talking and acting as if he was on the same social plane as the knights, it set Hector's teeth on edge.

So when the laughing knights and Merlin parted ways, each one patting the servant on the back as Merlin tossed a sarcastic comment and a wave over his shoulder, Sir Hector decided that this couldn't continue.

"Oi, you, servant," called Hector, flashing his friends a malicious smirk as Merlin approached.

"How can I help you, Sir Hector?"

"You know," the knight replied slowly as he and his two friends formed a ring around the now nervous servant. "I'm getting really sick and tired of you."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I-"

"_Silence!_" Sir Gavin's deep voice cut in. Merlin whipped around to face the man. "Don't act like you don't understand. We saw you arrive just now with the knights."

"This insubordination needs to stop. _Now._" spat Sir Darien.

"Is-" Merlin began uncertainly. "Is this about my comment on Leon's hair just now? Because he knows I was just joking around with him."

"This is exactly what we mean!" yelled Sir Hector. He advanced on Merlin and jabbed him hard on the chest. "You need to stop hanging around people who are above you. No one wants a lowly servant like you around!" Hector pushed Merlin back and the servant stumbled, running into Sir Darien's large frame. Darien spun Merlin around and twisted his hand securely into the warlock's neckerchief.

"Let go!" Merlin choked out and attempted to pull away, but the burley knight only tugged him roughly back, sending deep pains through Merlin's throat.

"You're lucky I don't wring your neck right here." Darien sneered as he shook Merlin violently by the neckerchief.

Merlin was then released and once again shoved back, this time colliding with Sir Gavin, who also turned the servant around and, like Sir Darien, seized him by the scarf around his neck.

"Y-you can't treat me like this!" Merlin coughed out. His neck was definitely going to have some nice bruises.

"Oh, but we can. And do you know why?"

This time when Merlin was pushed away, there was a horribly painful pressure on his neck, followed by a loud tearing sound, and then a thump as his body hit the dirt.

There was a moment of silence as Merlin reached up to his throbbing neck to find it bare, his old, tattered neckerchief having torn away at the strain.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the servant and he looked up to see the three knights looming over him. Sir Hector knelt down and said in a sickly sweet voice.

"Because you're not a knight, so stop pretending to be one."

With that, Hector stood, smirking down at the fallen servant, before he and the other knights walked off, their own smug cackling a twisted echo of Merlin's earlier joyous laughter that had started this whole mess.

~0~0~0~0~

Arthur glanced up from his reports as Merlin quietly opened the door and entered his chambers.

"Ah, Merlin," Arthur greeted as he diverted his attention back to the papers on his desk. "late again, I see."

Had Arthur been looking while he said this, he might have noticed the way Merlin opened his mouth to reply, only to snap it shut with a grimace when no more than a barely audible croak came out.

While Arthur didn't notice the painful expression, he did notice the silence and he sighed heavily as he looked up.

"What's got you upset this t-" Arthur stopped abruptly when Merlin raised his head.

What first caught the king's eye was his servant's blatant lack of neck wear. Arthur couldn't remember a time when that ridiculous scarf wasn't adorning Merlin's neck (and that, although Arthur would _never_ admit it, was something he found… not endearing, but… okay, yes, it was endearing).

Once getting over the slight surprise at the missing neckerchief, Arthur saw Merlin's neck.

Then he saw red.

The king quickly strode forward, reaching the younger man before Merlin had any chance to react, and gently gripped his servant's chin, tipping his head up.

Arthur's anger only grew when he saw Merlin wince at the slight movement, and his fury reached new heights as he examined the large, ugly bruises marring his friend's usually pale neck.

Just when the tense quiet and careful examination was getting to Merlin, Arthur broke the silence with one low word.

"Who."

It wasn't a question. It was a demand for names, a promise for swift and painful vengeance, and a confirmation that anyone who dared to lay a finger on Merlin would have a murderous Arthur to answer to.

Merlin painfully cleared his throat before answering this time. "It's nothing. I tripped. I'm fine." Arthur released Merlin's chin and gave him an unbelieving glare.

"Oh, and I suppose someone caught you by your neck, then."

"I…" Merlin wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want Arthur to make a big fuss about it. His bruises would heal and, well, he might not have another neckerchief, but he could save up his salary for a little while and buy some new cloth.

And what if those knights were right? What if his friends really didn't like a servant tagging along with them everywhere they went? A little nagging voice in the back of his head told him that the knights words could be true.

Most important of all though, Merlin wasn't quite sure he could handle it if Arthur thought the knights were right.

"Merlin," Arthur began, grasping the servant gently by the shoulders. "tell me who did this to you. Please."

Merlin looked down, weighing his chances of coming up with a believable lie, but one quick glance up to Arthur's eyes and Merlin knew that the king would buy nothing but the cold, hard truth. He let out a big sigh before answering.

"It was Sirs Hector, Gavin, and Darien." Arthur stared at Merlin in shock for a moment before stepping back, running a hand through his hair and responding angrily.

"_Three _knights? Three of my own knights attacked you?" Merlin nodded. "Why the hell did they feel compelled to do that?"

Here Merlin paused. He was almost embarrassed to admit to Arthur what the knights had said to him. And again, what if Arthur agreed with them?

Seeing the hesitation in his servant's expression, Arthur stepped forward and once again took Merlin by the shoulders.

"You know you can tell me, Merlin." When the younger man still didn't reply, Arthur continued. "Whatever those men might have said about you, I can assure you it was wrong. Please, Merlin, just tell me."

It was the genuine concern in Arthur's voice that eventually got Merlin to talk.

"They said I was insubordinate." He finally admitted after taking a shaky breath. "That I should stop hanging around people who are above me because they don't want me around. And they said-" This next part hurt Merlin the most. He found that he couldn't quite look the king in the eye as he confessed, "they said that I'm not a knight, so I should stop pretending to be one."

Arthur was practically trembling with rage at this point. How _dare _those men say those things about _his_ manservant? Yes, Merlin was insubordinate, but Arthur admittedly needed a dose of Merlin's special brand of defiance every once in a while to be sure he was doing what was best for his people. Oh, when Arthur got his hands on those men…

"Merlin, look at me." It took a moment, but the younger man finally dragged his gaze up to meet his king's. The look of shame and rejection in Merlin's eyes only added to the conviction in Arthur's voice. "Merlin, I cannot even begin to express to you how wrong those men are. Of course you're insubordinate; it's part of who you are." Arthur gave Merlin's shoulders a squeeze. "I don't want you to ever change who you are." the slight upward turn of Merlin's lips gave Arthur the encouragement to continue. "And nobody want you around? Merlin, there's a reason why you accompany the knights and I on every quest, patrol, and hunt. They've all grown quite attached to you. And in all honesty," Arthur swallowed. He didn't typically do these heart to heart talks, but as the king usually did, he made a special exception for Merlin. "in all honesty, _I've_ become quite attached to you as well."

Merlin smiled in earnest this time. It was moments like this when the warlock couldn't be happier that his destiny had brought him to Arthur.

"As for not being a knight…" Arthur turned around, his eyes roving over his chambers before landing on his Camelot red cape and he smiled. The king schooled his features into an expression of the utmost seriousness before spinning back around to face his manservant. "I know I can't make you an official knight of Camelot; you're too much of a girl's petticoat and I'm nearly positive all the armor and chain mail would weigh as much as you do." Arthur almost broke his serious demeanor with a smile at Merlin's affronted expression. "But this is what I can do."

Merlin eyed the older man in confusion as Arthur walked over to his red cape, picked it up, and gripped the corner.

Before Merlin had time to question what he was doing, Arthur began making a series of careful tugs and a loud ripping sound filled his chambers.

"The seamstress won't be pleased to hear that you've ruined yet another cape, Arthur." Merlin sighed. The blonde just rolled his eyes as he approached his manservant with the newly torn triangle of red fabric in hand. Arthur paused in front of Merlin for a moment before proclaiming,

"Kneel."

Merlin stared at Arthur, waiting for some sort of explanation, but seeing that he was getting none, he decided to placate his king, not having the energy to argue with the older man at the moment. Without taking his wary gaze off of Arthur, Merlin kneeled down.

"For outstanding bravery and unmated loyalty that goes above and beyond the call of duty, I, King Arthur Pendragon, declare you an unofficial knight of Camelot." Arthur leaned down and, using the utmost care, being very aware of the painful bruises covering his throat, tied the piece of his cloak around Merlin's neck. He straightened it out before stepping back to admire his work. "Arise, Sir Merlin of Camelot."

Merlin rose and looked down. He now wore the deep, passionate red of Camelot around his neck in the form of Arthur's handmade neckerchief.

"Arthur, I," Merlin felt the soft, fine fabric around his neck. "I'm not sure I understand."

"As I said before, I can't make you an official knight. I may have changed the law about having to be of a noble line, but there is still a series of tests and training exercises one must go through to be knighted, and Merlin, I mean no offence, but you probably wouldn't pass a majority of them." Arthur held up a hand to silence the argument that his manservant was inevitably about to make. "But," Arthur lowered his hand to let it rest on Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin, those men had no right to accuse you of not being a knight when they themselves are just thugs masquerading as knights because they had nothing more than the brute strength to pass the training. You, my friend, are more loyal and braver than any knight I have ever met. Therefore, I have made you Camelot's first and only unofficial knight."

Merlin was practically glowing from the king's praise. Although he would never tell Arthur (no need to make the prat's head grow any bigger than it already was), Merlin valued Arthur's opinion above all other's. Compliments from the king were few and far between, so on the rare occasions when Merlin received one, he wore a stupid grin for the rest of the day.

Merlin glanced down at his new neckerchief, gripping it tightly, before smiling back up at the blonde.

"Thank you, Arthur. This… this means a lot." Arthur only reached out and ruffled his manservant's hair.

"Alright Merlin, don't make this all girly." he teased in an affectionate tone as the younger man tried to duck away from his hand. "Now, why don't you go make sure the horses have been put away properly, help me into my night clothes, and then we'll call it a night."

Merlin nodded, giving a mock solute and an over zealous "Yes, sire!" before bustling out of the room. Arthur only chuckled and shook his head.

~0~0~0~0~

Three days passed. Merlin walked around the castle, proudly wearing his new neckerchief, the fact that only he and Arthur knew the real meaning behind it not dampening his spirits in the least. Even in the short amount of time that he had it, Merlin had developed a habit of playing with the red piece if cloth when he was feeling nervous or unsure because it reassured him. It reminded him that Arthur believed in him, and that was enough for Merlin.

It had also been three days since Merlin had last seen the three knights who had attacked him. The warlock simply figured that they had gotten their anger out of their system and moved on.

Sadly, Merlin was wrong.

Merlin made his way quickly across the sodden courtyard on his way to Arthur's chambers with the king's supper in hand. He was doing his best to shield the meal from the rain, which had been falling in sheets all day. Suddenly, a voice, a terribly familiar voice, rang across the grounds and Merlin's stomach dropped.

"Well, look who it is, boys!"

Merlin tried to ignore the call and continue on his way, but he was grabbed behind by his new neckerchief, his still sore neck protesting at the rough action and the tray of food clattering to the ground. The servant soon found himself surrounded once again by Sirs Hector, Gavin, and Darien.

Hector, still holding the neckerchief, seemed to notice the red fabric for the first time and he ran his thumb over it, his face twisting into a cloying smile. "Arthur got a new collar for his dog, I see. How cute."

Merlin managed to pry the knight's fingers off of the scarf and push him away.

"Don't touch it!" the servant exclaimed. They knights only laughed and further enclosed their circle.

"Attached to that, are we?" questioned Sir Hector before he cast Sir Gavin, who was standing directly behind Merlin, a quick, meaningful look. Gavin nodded in understanding with a smirk.

Before Merlin knew what was happening, he heard a knife being unsheathed from behind him and felt a slight tug on his neckerchief, quickly followed by a ripping sound and a chill on his neck as the fabric was pulled away.

"No!" Merlin yelled as he spun around and reached for the precious item Sir Gavin was currently holding high above his head.

"You want it back?" mocked Gavin, holding out the scarf as if to give it back to Merlin, but then tossed it to Sir Darien, who easily caught it.

"This doesn't make you angry, does it?" drawled the knight. Merlin lunged for it, but the neckerchief was once again passed off, this time back to Sir Hector.

"Oh, I think he's going to cry!" Hector teased and the part that Merlin hated the most was that he wasn't far from the truth. Merlin was cold, soaked to the bone, and humiliated by the fact that the knights were able to get to him so easily.

"Give it back!" the servant cried. Sir Hector, rather than passing off the bit of cloth again, stepped forward, took Merlin roughly by the front of his shirt and pulled the raven haired man forward until they were nearly nose to nose.

"Don't forget what we said before, servant. You're still no knight and we can do whatever we like. Remember that."

Hector shoved Merlin back and the servant stumbled, his feet slipping out from under him and he landed heavily in a freezing puddle of rainwater. If he wasn't soaked before, he definitely was now.

The knights laughed and the severed neckerchief was tossed over Sir Hector's shoulder, landing in the puddle beside Merlin as the three men sauntered away.

Merlin simply sat there, unwilling to get up quite yet. The rain poured down his face in little streams, mixing with hot, salty tears that had escaped from his eyes. Merlin reached forward with a shaking hand and picked up the sodden and broken neckerchief.

It was one of the only things Arthur had ever given him. He had even refused to take it off when he had gone to bed the night he received it. That little piece of red fabric had been a reminder that Arthur has as much faith in Merlin as Merlin has in him.

And now that physical reminder had been taken away from him in a cruel and humiliating manner.

'_You shouldn't be crying over this' _Merlin thought harshly to himself. _'Arthur said you were brave and brave men don't cry.' _But, even as Merlin thought this, more rogue tears carved their way down his face. _'I guess I'm not that brave after all.' _

**A/N: Don't worry, Merlin fans! I have this whole this written out so chapter 2 (the final part) will be posted tomorrow! Thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know if you're interested in the role play or to drop me a quick review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is the last part, as promised! Remember, if any of you are interested in that Merlin role play on twitter, let me know!**

**Warning: some mean knights use some mean words, but nothing too bad.**

**Disclaimer: Surprisingly, I still don't own Merlin.**

Arthur huffed impatiently and threw down his quill. Merlin was exceedingly late with his supper today. Although Merlin was nearly always late with every task, over the past few days he had been almost punctual. Arthur liked to pride himself in thinking it had been his cheering up with Merlin's "knighthood" that had made him become so proficient. After all, pride in one's work did tend to make on work harder.

Therefore, the fact that Merlin was not only late, but unusually late, was a bit concerning. Arthur tried to tell himself that he wasn't worried about his wayward servant, but after another half an hour passed with no sign of Merlin, Arthur could no longer deny his concern.

Horrible images of all the different types of trouble his clumsy servant could have gotten himself into dancing in his head, Arthur finally couldn't take it any longer and he strode out of his chambers in search of his friend.

The first place Arthur checked was the physician's chambers. He barged, quite loudly, into the room, never having been one for knocking, but found no Merlin in sight.

"Is there something I can help you with, sire?" asked Gaius calmly. He was so used to people, namely the king, bursting into his chambers at all hours of the day, the boisterous entrances hardly phased him anymore.

"Have you seen Merlin lately? The clot pole is unusually late with my supper today."

Gaius furrowed his eyebrows worriedly. "He left to retrieve your supper almost an hour ago, sire. That was the last time I saw him."

Arthur tried not to let his concern leak into his voice, but he was sure Gaius could read it all over hid face. "Alright, thank you, Gaius. I'll just… continue my search then." Arthur nodded and once the king had left, the old physician let out a loud sigh. Why did Merlin have to have trouble following him around closer than his own shadow?

~0~0~0~0~

Arthur decided to make his way down to the kitchens to see if Merlin had been through there. A small voice in his head (one that sounded oddly like his father) said that he shouldn't be going to this much trouble to find one servant who had gone astray. He could have anyone bring him his supper. But Arthur elected to ignore that voice because deep down, Arthur knew that Merlin was much more than a servant to him. He was a friend. More than a friend, actually. After everything they had been through, Merlin felt more like the little brother he never had then a friend. Not that the king was too keen on saying this out loud., however.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Arthur steeled himself for running out into the downpour. He needed to cross the courtyard in order to reach the entrance to the kitchens and that meant running out into the buckets of falling rainwater outside. When he found Merlin, he was going to kill him.

Arthur began his sprint out into the rain and about halfway through the courtyard, he stopped dead. A little ways off to his right was the very person he was looking for. All previous ill feelings toward his servant washed away as if by the pouring rain upon seeing his friend.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, but the call was drown out by the hammering of the rain (something Arthur was partially thankful for because the call had been a bit too excited for the king's liking).

Arthur closed the distance between himself and his manservant, but the closer he got, the more dread started settling in his stomach.

Why _was_ Merlin out here, hunched over in a puddle, with rain coming down in sheets?

"Merlin, what-" but then Arthur froze. When he first saw Merlin, he has assumed that the shaking in the man's shoulders was due to the chill, but now that he was closer, he heard the quick, sharp intakes of breath and he realized that Merlin was _crying_.

Ignoring the large puddle he was landing in, Arthur dropped to his knees in front of his servant and put a light hand on his shoulder.

Merlin jumped slightly at the sudden contact, thinking for a moment that it was the knights back for more, but when he looked up to see it was Arthur's hand on his shoulder, the raven haired man didn't know whether to cry from relief or humiliation at being found. Merlin returned his gaze to the ruined neckerchief that he had gripped in both hands.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." he croaked out softly. Arthur, for his part, furrowed his eyebrows and followed Merlin's gaze down to the fabric in his hands. As soon as Arthur recognized the Camelot red of the cloth, a quick glance to Merlin's bare neck confirmed the king's suspicions. Although Arthur thought he already knew the answer, he asked firmly,

"Merlin, what happened? Who did this?"

Merlin let his head fall forward so it rested on Arthur's shoulder and he shook it back and forth. "I didn't- I should have…" he stuttered. "I'm sorry." the shivering servant repeated miserably.

Seeing that he was getting no answers out of the other man at the moment, Arthur gently pushed Merlin back, stood, and reached down to help Merlin up before he stopped as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

When the servant numbly shook his head, Arthur grabbed Merlin's hand and carefully pulled him to his feet.

"God, you're freezing," muttered Arthur under his breath as he wrapped an arm around the other man's shoulders, partially to keep him warm, and partially to keep Merlin's shaking frame upright.

The two men made their way quickly through the castle, leaving a trail of puddles behind them. When they finally reached Arthur's chambers, the king sat his servant in front of the warm fireplace before continuing over to his wardrobe, changing quickly into dry clothes. He grabbed another dry shirt and trousers, then made his way back to Merlin.

When he kneeled down next to the servant, he was pleased to see that, while he was still shaking, the trembling had lessened considerably. Arthur noted with concern, however, that a miserable expression was still etched into the younger man's face.

"Here, Merlin," Arthur held out the dry clothes. "put these on. You'll never get warm in you don't change out of your wet ones."

Merlin numbly reached out and took the clothes before standing and disappearing behind the changing screen.

A moment later, when Merlin stepped out wearing Arthur's dry clothing, the king had to stifle an amused laugh as his servant was practically swimming in his new attire.

Merlin arranged his wet clothes down in front of the fire to let them dry, but then he stayed there, just staring into the flames.

After a beat, Arthur come to sit next to his manservant, sparing him intermittent concerned glances as he too stared at the dancing fire.

"I don't deserve this." Merlin's voice broke the heavy silence as he held up the ruined, sopping red neckerchief that he had yet to put down. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What are you talking about, Merlin? Is it something the knights said? Because if it is, then I'll tell you again that they're wrong." Merlin just shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the flames and down to the fabric in his hands.

"It's not what they said, it's just-" Merlin cut himself off, swallowing hard and trying to compose his errant thoughts before continuing. "they took it." he shook his hands to indicate the neckerchief. "and I couldn't stop them. I just fell for their tricks and acted like a _fool_." Merlin hung his head and spoke quietly. "A cowardly fool."

At this, the king became absolutely livid. The only person who was allowed to make Merlin look foolish was himself and himself alone. Any exception to this rule Arthur would not tolerate.

Trying his best to quell some of the fury in his voice, not wanting Merlin to think any of the anger was directed at him, Arthur turned to face his manservant.

"Merlin, as much as I sometimes say it, you are _not_ a fool. Or a coward. Nothing could be farther from the truth." When the younger man still didn't look convinced, Arthur took a deep breath, pushing aside his pride as he knew Merlin would do for him, and confessed. "In fact, you, Merlin, are the bravest man I've ever met."

"But Arthur, I didn't-"

"No, Merlin! Just shut up and let me finish." Arthur interrupted firmly. "Throughout my years, I have met kings, knights, and noblemen from all walks of life and I can say, in complete honesty, that not one of them had a heart more courageous than yours."

Upon hearing this from Arthur, a great weight lifted in Merlin's chest. When he wasn't being a total prat, the young warlock did truly look up to Arthur much in the way a boy looks up to his older brother. It was something more realistic than hero worship, but to say Arthur's opinions were important to Merlin was a tragic understatement.

Although he did feel better due to Arthur's heartening words, Merlin still looked forlornly down at the cloth in his hands. "It's broken," the servant said matter of factly in a small voice.

Arthur sighed sadly and stood, walking over to where his torn cape still rested on the back of a chair. A few moments later, he returned and once again sat down across from his manservant.

Leaning forward, Arthur gently secured the newly torn triangle of red fabric around Merlin's neck.

"There," said Arthur in a quiet, satisfied voice. He then allowed his hands to rest on the younger man's shoulders, looking him directly in the eye, he asked him in a serious voice. "Better?"

A soft smile graced Merlin's features as he nodded, and then he and Arthur, who had moved to lean up against a chair, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Merlin, fell into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, Arthur felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and he looked down to see Merlin's head resting against him. Normally, Arthur wouldn't allow the raven haired man to use him as his own personal pillow, but when the servant looked so young, innocent, and so utterly exhausted, Arthur found he couldn't bring himself to deny Merlin much of anything.

The longer Arthur sat there with Merlin asleep on his shoulder, the more his thoughts started drifting towards the three knights who attacked his servant not once, but twice, and the angrier the king got. What right did those men think they had to lay a _finger_ on Merlin? It was no secret to the people in the castle that the king was fiercely protective of his manservant (even if the king himself would deny it), so most didn't dare to inflict any form of harm on the young man. But when someone did…

'_It looks like,' _Arthur thought menacingly to himself. _'I'm going to have to remind those knights what happens to those who hurt Merlin.'_

"Merlin," Arthur quietly called while softly shaking his shoulder in an attempt to rouse his dozing friend. Merlin, for his part, merely swatted at the king's hand in a rather sleepy and uncoordinated fashion and nuzzled his cheek further into the crook of Arthur's neck. The blonde rolled his eyes, not finding the action adorable in the _least. _(okay, maybe he did find it adorable, but there was no way he was going to admit that to anyone, not even himself.)

"_Mer_lin," Arthur called again, but when he still got no response, the king sighed, muttering a soft "idiot" under his breath, and proceeded to scoop up the younger man, this motion finally eliciting a reaction out of Merlin.

"A'thur?" he muttered sleepily.

"Just go back to sleep, you clot pole." Arthur was glad Merlin was too out of it to hear the affection that had slipped into the older man's voice.

"'s my word." was the last thing the warlock slurred before dropping off into a deep sleep.

Arthur just smiled as he lowered the servant onto his own bed (not wanting to carry Merlin all the way to Gaius's chambers), gently tugged off Merlin's boots, and covered him up with the thick blanket.

The king was just about to turn away when a movement on the bed caught his eye. Merlin had brought a hand up to subconsciously grip the bit of cape that was tied around his neck and he sighed in contentment.

Arthur smiled at the action, happy to be the provider of a comfort in the younger man's life. Still smiling, he reached over and gently squeezed the nape of Merlin's neck in an affectionate manner before he turned around, set his shoulders, and walked determinably out of his chambers.

~0~0~0~0~

"Pass that thing over here, will you?"

Sir Darien snickered as he tossed the torn bit of fabric to Sir Hector, who caught it and began using it to polish his sword.

"Can you believe that servant today?" Hector put down his sword and stood, clasping the fabric, Merlin's original neckerchief, to his chest as he cried in an exaggerated, teasing, and rather poor imitation of Merlin, "'Give it back! Don't touch it!'" The two knights laughed meanly with their friend.

Sir Gavin, who was sharpening his sword at one end of the armory, spoke up in a slightly angry tone.

"I still don't think we were hard enough on the little whelp."

Hector shrugged and then smirked. "Well, maybe next time we'll have to-"

Hector was suddenly cut off as the armory door crashed open and someone burst in, pausing no more than a second before they charged at Sir Hector.

Sir Hector yelped when he suddenly found himself pinned up against the wall by none other than King Arthur himself.

"S-sire!" stammered Hector as the two other knights only stared at the scene in shock.

"Did you attack Merlin?" the king nearly shouted, anger rolling off of him in waves.

"My lord, I'm sure I don't know what-"

"Did. You. Attack. Merlin." with every word, Arthur gave the frightened knight in his grasp a rough shake.

Swallowing and risking a quick glance at his companions, Sir Hector's eyes darted back to the king and he answered in a shaking voice.

"No." As soon as the word was out of his mouth, the knight knew he had said the wrong thing because if the king looked angry before, he looked absolutely _murderous_ now.

"Do you take me for a fool, Sir Hector? Do you think I would not recognize my manservant's neckerchief when the man wears the thing nearly every day?" When Hector looked at Arthur in confusion, the blonde fumed, "You are holding it in your hand, _Sir knight._"

Sir Hector tightened his hand and his stomach sank as he realized that what the king had said was true.

"S-sire, I can explain-"

"No!" Arthur threw the knight down so he was now sprawled out on the floor in front of his two still frozen companions. "Allow _me _to explain to _you_." Arthur stepped forward, staring each man in the eye. If looks could kill, the three knights would be dead ten times over.

"None of you had any right to treat Merlin the way you did. How _dare _you accuse someone of not being a knight when you yourselves are no better than common thugs in capes? Merlin is ten times the man any of you are and I will not have scum like yourselves insulting him." Arthur's voice became deadly serious and low. "If any of you even _think_ about laying a single finger on Merlin, if you even look at him in the wrong way, I will not hesitate to banish all of you from Camelot on pain of death. _Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?" _

The three knights bobbled their heads in a terrified nod and Arthur felt a wave of satisfaction at the nervous looks in their eyes.

"Good. Now get out of my sight." the three men scrambled up and sulked to the armory door, and just before they left, the king heard Sir Hector mumble under his breath in a quiet voice he thought the king wouldn't be able to hear.

"What's so special about that damn little bastard anyway?"

Arthur didn't even remember moving. The next thing he knew, he was grabbing Sir Hector by the shoulder, spinning him around, and pulling back his fist to do the one thing he had been aching to do ever since he saw the bruises on Merlin's neck some days ago.

His fist smashed into the knight's face, hitting his right in the middle of his face. Hector fell to the ground, holding a hand over his now bleeding and most likely broken nose. Arthur crouched down in front of him and said in a low, menacing voice,

"No one _ever_ insults my manservant in front of me, got it?"

The fallen knight nodded quickly with a wince as Arthur reached over, grabbed the old neckerchief out of his hand, and, not waiting to be dismissed, Sir Hector darted out of the armory door.

After all the knight was gone, Arthur took a deep breath in an attempt to lower his temper. He shook out his hand, which was still slightly stinging. He had his Hector _really_ hard. Arthur noted, however, that he felt no guilt about this. If he felt any remorse at all, it was because he wished he had hit the other two as well.

The king then looked down at the neckerchief in his hand. He wasn't quite sure why he had gotten such a strong urge to take it from the men, but something about the thought of an object so utterly… Merlin in the possession of those brutes set the king's teeth on edge.

Also, another part of him (_'the prattish part' _a voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin said in his head) just _wanted_ the thing for no other reason than to have it. It was like having a little piece of Merlin with him and it reassured him in the same strange way Merlin never failed to do when he was by Arthur's side.

So, with that thought in mind, Arthur wound the light blue neckerchief around his wrist several times before tying it off securely. He then pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over the impromptu bracelet and made his way back to his chambers.

When Arthur arrived back in his room, he had honestly forgotten the fact that Merlin was asleep in his bed. He briefly considered waking the man up and sending him back to his own room, but that thought was banished as quickly as it had come. Merlin was fast asleep by now and the poor man really had had a rough day. He wasn't about to allow the younger man to kick him out of his own bed, however.

"Come on, you idiot," the king mumbled as he shoved the sleeping servant over to one side of the bed. Once that job was finished, Arthur quickly slipped into his night clothes and climbed into bed beside Merlin. "You had better not speak of this to anyone." warned the blonde, even though he knew he would get no response out of the slumbering man.

After shifting into a comfortable position, Arthur touched the fabric around his wrist once more and turned slightly toward the younger man, whispering out a soft "Goodnight, my friend" before following Merlin into the land of dreams.

~0~0~0~0~

The next morning, Arthur awoke to the sight of Merlin bustling around his chambers, straightening various areas as he waited for the king to wake.

"Morning, Merlin," Arthur greeted, smiling in amusement when the servant jumped slightly at the sudden voice.

Spinning around to face Arthur, Merlin smiled. It was that wide, warm, boyish grin that was reserved solely for his master and Arthur could never resist smiling back.

"Ah, sire! Finally awake, I see."

"Brilliant observation, Merlin," Arthur mumbled good-naturedly as he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. I've just been waiting for you to drag your lazy self out of bed."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled himself out of bed. As he neared the table, he was disappointed to see a blatant lack of breakfast.

"Merlin," Arthur began sarcastically. "I know it may come to you as a surprise, but today I was planning on eating breakfast like I do every morning."

Merlin's smile fell and he shifted nervously, looking down at his feet as he anxiously fidgeted with his new neckerchief.

"Well, you see, sire, in order to get to the kitchens, I would need to cross through the courtyard, and the knights are currently training in the courtyard and I would rather avoid another… confrontation… so, I thought I'd wait until they were done to get your breakfast."

"Merlin," Arthur said seriously as understanding dawned on him. "you needn't worry about those men anymore. Last night after you fell asleep, I went and had a _talk_ with them."

Merlin suddenly grew slightly pale as his eyes went wide. "You didn't kill them, did you?"

"Well…"

"Arthur!"

"I'm only joking, Merlin!" Arthur said with a laugh. "I just talked to them." Merlin raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Well, more like threatened them." Merlin still just stared. " I may have also broken one's nose…"

"Arthur," the servant began in an exasperated tone. "that's still not-"

"Merlin, no one attacks you and gets away with it." Arthur said earnestly. "Not while I'm around."

The younger man smiled at his master, his eyes conveying his gratitude before he replied happily, "Well then, I'll just help you get dressed and then go fetch your breakfast from the kitchens."

Arthur nodded before he disappeared behind his changing screen as Merlin got clothes from his dresser.

When the king reached his hand out for Merlin to pass him his new clothes, the raven haired man began to deliver the garments before he paused and looked curiously at Arthur's wrist.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" the king asked, popping his head out from behind the screen. When he saw what Merlin was asking about, however, he hastily snatched his clothing from his servant's grasp and ducked back behind the screen.

"It's nothing."

"No, no, I know my neckerchief when I see it, Arthur. That was _definitely_ my old neckerchief."

A moment later, Arthur emerged with his shirt sleeve covering his wrist. Merlin narrowed his eyes in suspicion, while Arthur tried to cover up his nervousness with annoyance.

"I have no idea what you're prattling on about, _Mer_lin, but I would appreciate it if you just went to get my breakfast now."

"Oh, don't you play dumb- well, more dumb than usual- with me, you prat. Roll up your shirt sleeve, or I'll do it for you."

"Merlin, I am king. I don't have to take orders from y-"

That was as far as Arthur got before Merlin launched himself at king's arm, effectively tackling him to the ground.

"_Merlin!_" Arthur shouted as the two men began to struggle around on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You will show me your wrist, dollop head!"

Merlin, who had Arthur pinned under him, suddenly was flipped off and barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid having Arthur land on top of him. When Merlin went to stand up, he felt a hand wrap around and heard a "No you don't!" from behind him and soon found himself on the ground once more.

The struggle continued for a few more minutes before Arthur, caught up in the heat of the moment, blindly reached out to grab his servant to tug him back onto the ground again. Not paying attention to where he grasped, the king accidentally caught Merlin by the back of his neckerchief and pulled.

Merlin let out a choked yelp as his hands flew up to his still sore neck and his knees buckled.

The second he realized what he had done, Arthur released Merlin as if he had been burned and immediately reached out to stop the man's decent.

"God, Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Arthur carefully lowered the younger man to the floor, but still kept a hand under his head as guilt welled up inside of him. "Are you alright?"

Merlin brought a hand up to gently massage his sore neck and cleared his throat with a wince before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it, it was just an accident."

Arthur sighed as he helped Merlin sit up. When the two men were sitting across from each other, Merlin slowly reached out and took Arthur's wrist, keeping eye contact with the king all the while. This time, Arthur didn't resist as Merlin gently rolled up his sleeve to expose the bit of cloth tied around his wrist.

"Why?" Merlin asked softly.

"Well, it's not like I was just going to let those men keep it like some trophy." Arthur said, hoping Merlin wouldn't push the fact that he was avoiding the real question.

"Arthur," the king sighed. He knew he wouldn't be that lucky. "I mean why is it tied around your wrist?"

"Because," Arthur wasn't really sure how to explain it. He decided with a heavy sigh that the most painless way would be the most direct, and he also felt he owed it to Merlin to tell the truth. "Because it reassures me. It reminds me that no matter what, there is at least on person I can always count on. One person who isn't afraid to call me a prat when I deserve it. Someone who is loyal and brave and always by my side." The more Arthur spoke, the tighter Merlin gripped his hand. "It also reminds me that I have to make good decisions because there is someone out there who looks up to me." Arthur looked up and met his friend's eyes. "It reminds me of you, Merlin. Can you understand that?"

Merlin reached up and gripped his Camelot red neckerchief tightly. "Yes, Arthur. I believe I can understand that perfectly."

**A/N: Well that was incredibly long! Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!**


End file.
